


All Because Of A Cherry Vodka Sour

by Clown_Boyz, Dorian_Blaire (Clown_Boyz)



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blackmail, Boys in Skirts, Cheating, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drunk Murdoc Niccals, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intoxication, M/M, Multi, Murdoc Niccals Being an Asshole, POV Second Person, Phase Five (Gorillaz), Phase One (Gorillaz), Phase Two (Gorillaz), Roommates, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Boyz/pseuds/Clown_Boyz, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_Boyz/pseuds/Dorian_Blaire
Summary: TW: THIS STORY CONTAINS SEXUAL ASSAULT AND OTHER TRIGGGERING CONTENT, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU ARNT COMFORTABLE WITH THAT SUBJECT(It starts in phase 2 with flashbacks to phase 1 and then skips to phase 5)This is just a little experiment to work on to take the stress off of my other two projects.Your name is Dorian, and you don't recognize this bed, or the loud snoring behind you, or these silky sheets, and you definitely don't recognize the soft arms tightly wrapped around your bare waist.What happened last night again?
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Reader, Stuart "2D" Pot/Reader
Kudos: 7





	1. Good Morning Crybaby

You wake up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. But the snoring from behind you and the arms around your waist and the silky sheets on your bare body almost lull you back to sleep, until you notice that Stu doesn't snore that loud, and your sheets never feel this nice, and suddenly last night floods everyone of your senses and you stiffen up quickly, the ache in your head and the agonizing pain below your waist is a hurtful reminder of what you had let Murdoc do to you last night.

It was an event, some concert after party with classy champagne and even fancier whiskey(if such a thing even existed), Stu had been wasted and had to be taken home a little early by Noodle and Russ, but they told everyone they would be back eventually and to have fun with out them. You guess that Murdoc had taken this a little to seriously because while you sat a the bar still working on your second martini Murdoc strode over with as much confidence as a drunk man could have and sat down beside you.

"Murdoc, your surprisingly sober for an after party, what are you planning?" the question had slipped from your mouth so effortlessly that you almost envied the power to speak now, and though he didn't respond you almost wish he had. He called over the bartender, and asked him for two drinks, a bourbon old fashioned and a cherry vodka sour.

If only you weren't so distracted you probably would have noticed what he slipped in your drink. He had slid the vodka over to you and sipped on his bourbon casually. You almost followed the gut feeling of not drinking anything Murdoc gave you, but like the fuck up you are, you ignored that rule for one night, and sipped on it hesitantly.

..

Well at least betrayal tasted good.

The rest of the night felt fuzzy, like someone had blindfolded you in faux fur and uncomfortable warmth. All you remember after that was Murdoc driving you two home, taking you to his room and...

His lips were on your neck, leaving a wet trial of disgust and disbelief down your bare torso, when did your dress come off again? Rough bite marks on your collar bones, the pounding of your dainty powerless hands on his back, shouts muffled by his hand and the light shushing and the quiet white lies of 'It's all gonna be okay love, this'll feel amazing' and then a sharp pain.

No one ever said losing your virginity would feel like that. You're at least grateful he was gentle at first. He was right too, it ended up feeling incredible.

But. You still cheated, the barely there 'no's that fell from you lips unheard or otherwise. You cheated and you're probably the worst boyfriend in the fucking galaxy.

You had always been careful around Murdoc, the mere thought of him disgusting you. But here you were in his arms in his bed in his sheets.

You're thankful he's a heavy sleeper, because besides the splitting pain around almost your whole body, it's pretty easy to get out of bed. You slip on your boxers and gather up your other clothes, the poor dress you wore last night stained and torn. You tiptoe back through the hallways into yours and Stuart's room, put on a baggy 'Night of the Living Dead' tshirt and crawl into bed, wrapping yourself around Stu and sobbing the rest of the early morning away until you fall back sleep.


	2. Bloody Shoulders

You're woken up for the second time this morning by Noodle, announcing that Russel made crepes and that you and 'D better get up before she drags you to the kitchen table herself.

Sitting up you almost immediately throw yourself back down from the splitting headache that hammers around your skull and you curl up into a ball.

Stuart sits up beside you looking better but definitely not by much and turns his back just long enough for you to grab some pants and slip off into the conjoined bathroom.

Looking into the mirror to asses the damage seemed like a much better idea in theory because you practically burst into tears right then and there. The full body mirror shows the polka dots of bruises littering your neck, collar bones, and fuck even your thighs, dried blood and rough bite marks surround you shoulders and collarbone and you regret not taking a shower this morning. You go over to the bathroom cabinet mirror and pull out a bottle of concealer and start your work on covering everything the t-shirt doesn't. You throw on the PJ pants and try not to think to hard about anything for a second. Once you're satisfied with your work you brush your teeth and down a few Tylenols before leaving the bathroom for the kitchen.

Walking in you see Noodle sitting at the table reading some magazine, Russel bustling around, trying to finish the last of the crepes, Stu sitting at the table with his head in his arms, probably asleep already, and Murdoc with a cigarette and cup of coffee looking as smug and satisfied with himself as you think you've ever seen him.

"What the fuck do YOU look so smug about NICCALS ?" you spit in his direction as you walk past him to the fridge for some apple juice. "Well I got my self a sexy little twink last night-" he said nonchalantly then continued "-But I think he left sometime this morning because there was no trace of him when I woke up," he shoots you a look as if he's trying to punish you with his eyes and you shoot an even deadlier one back at him as you lean on the fridge, slowly sipping your juice as to not make yourself nauseous.

Russel turns around and offers you a plate with a soon to be decorated crepe on it, but you only gently wave your hand in decline "Sorry Russ, maybe later I'm feeling really nauseous right now" you mutter, "Don't worry Dorian I'll try to save some for you" he retorts and turns to set plates in front of everyone at the table and then himself.

You walk over behind Stu and start running your fingers through his semi knotted hair "Darling come on, you don't want your breakfast to get cold, do you?" You hum to him sweetly. You spare a glance at Russel and Noodle sitting beside each other and speak up slightly "Did you guys get home okay last night?" Noodle perks up a bit and turns to you "Well, the whole cab ride back he kept crying about how you should have come with us because Murdoc seemed more schemy than usual last night, and then he fell asleep in my arms at the front door" she explains vaguely and you practically cringe at her words.

"What about you and Murdoc, it sounds like he left you at that party for a boy," Russel seemed concerned and Noodle added in "Yeah, did you walk home? You look exhausted" You took a shaky breath and held your suddenly churning stomach. "Can I get back to you on that one babe?" You call rushing out of the room and into the nearest bathroom.


	3. Shower Time

Honestly you didn't expect to spend half your morning hunched over the toilet, your body lurching with every wave of nausea, the silver heart necklace around your neck clinking against the porcelain and your bruised collar.

The hard knock on the door startles you out of a daze, but does nothing to sooth your headache, and when Murdoc's arm comes around the corner with a handful of dark fabric you groan. "Take a shower you look like shit, and if you tell face-ache what happened I'll personally make sure you're never seen around here again," he throws the clothes at you and slams the door shut, the faint click of his shoes and his grumbling voice echoing down the halls as he leaves.

You pick the clothes up off your lap and let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding, a quick glance at yourself in the mirror proves Murdoc's point, but you still relish in your hatred for him for a minute or two before getting up to place the clothes and towel on the counter. The sudden movement throws you into another wave of nausea but after a second of standing as still as you possibly could, it goes away.

You eventually turn towards the shower and turn it on as hot as it goes. You take a quick glance at the mirror, it's you. Stripping your clothes and running your fingers through your greasy hair you take one more peak at the mirror as if trying to figure out its secrets, it's still you.

Shaking your head and zoning back in you hop into the shower, the heat surrounds you and you're filled with momentary bliss before the concealer starts to run off your body, and the ghostly feeling of rough chapped lips and hopelessness are the only things running through your mind. You grip the silver heart around your neck to try and ground yourself, and start humming a soft tune to calm down.

Without realizing it you start going through your mental shower checklist, you shampoo your hair and put in the conditioner, you scrub a little to rough with your loofah and a few of the scabbed over bite marks open back up. Grabbing your face wash you put a little in your hands, lightly running your finger down your upturned nose.

You quickly wash your face, and rinse off. Jumping out of the shower, you stare into the mirror, making eye contact with your candy red eyes, trailing your gaze away from your milky porcelain skinned face to your long wavy snow white hair. Despite everything it's still you.

You brush your teeth, scrubbing a little too rough for it to be good on your gums. While you do that you look through the clothes Murdoc had given you. A t-shirt that would be baggy on your lanky frame but look like a crop top as it was clearly on of Murdoc's shirts, having some old rock band on the front and names of places on the back, you bet he stole this shirt cause you know he would've been less then 10 in the year shown on the shirt. You grab the only other thing he handed you and almost instantly throw it back on the counter. A thong, silky and black and covered in pinstripes and you briefly wonder how anything would fit in there, let alone be comfortable in it. So instead of putting those on you just wrap the towel around your waist and leave the stuffy bathroom.

You walk into yours and Stuart's room, and the overwhelming scent of cherries and cigarette smoke fills your lungs. Throwing the clothes Murdoc had given you on the bed you walk over to the dresser and pluck out some clean pajamas, a polka-dotted t-shirt and some fuzzy blue shorts, along with a bathrobe with DB carefully sewn onto the breast of it, they're your initials of course Dorian Blaire. You slip on your clothes and go to relax for once in the past few hours.


End file.
